Welcome to where time stands still
No one leaves and no one will
Moon is full, never seems to change
Just labeled mentally deranged.
Dream the same thing every night
I see our freedom in my sight
No locked doors, no windows barred
No things to make my brain seem scarred
Sleep my friend and you will see
That dream is my reality
They keep me locked up in this cage
Can’t they see it’s why my brain says rage
Sanitarium, leave me be
Sanitarium, just leave me alone
Äîáðå äîøúë. ×àñîâíèêúò íà âðåìåòî å ñïðÿë
Îòòóêà äà ñè òðúãíå íèêîé íèêîãà íå å óñïÿë.
Ëóíàòà ïàê å ïúëíà è íÿìà ïúò íàçàä
Ùîì âåäíúæ çà ëóä ñè ñìåòíàò â òîçè ñâÿò.
Âñÿêà íîù åäíî è ñúùî àç ñúíóâàì
Âèæäàì ñå ñâîáîäåí, âúí îò òàçè êëåòêà
Áåç çàêëþ÷åíè âðàòè, áåç ïðîçîðöè ñúñ ðåøåòêè
Áåç äà ìå áîëè è áåç äà ñå ñòðàõóâàì.
Ïðèÿòåëþ, çàñïè è òè ùå ðàçáåðåø
×å ùîì çàñïÿ ðåàëíîñò ñòàâà âñåêè ìîé êîïíåæ.
Çàòâîðåí ìå äúðæàò âúâ òîçè òåñåí àä
Íèìà òå íå óñåùàò
×å íå ìîãà äà èçäúðæàì
×å ñ ìåíå ñòàâà íåùî?
Ñàíàòîðèóì, îñòàâè ìå äà æèâåÿ
Ñàíàòîðèóì, ïðîñòî ìå îñòàâè íà ìèðà.
Build my fear of what’s out there
And cannot breath the open air
Whisper things into my brain
Assuring me that I’m insane
They think our heads are in their hands
But violence use brings violent plans
Keep him tied, it makes him well
He’s getting better, can’t you tell ?
No more can they keep us in
Listen, damn it, we will win
They see it right, they see it well
But they think this saves us from our hell
Sanitarium, leave me be
Sanitarium, just leave me alone
Sanitarium, just leave me alone.
Èñêàò äà èçïèòâàì îò ñâåòà íàâúí àç ñòðàõ
Êàçâàò ìè, ÷å äèøàø ëè íà âîëÿ, òóé å ãðÿõ
Çëè íåùà íàøåïâàò â ìîÿòà ãëàâà
Êàçâàò ìè ÷å ëóä ñúì, óâåðÿâàò ìå â òîâà.
Ìèñëÿò ñè, ÷å èìàò íàä íàñ òå ïúëíà âëàñò
Íî íàñèëèåòî ðàæäà íàñèëèå è áÿñ.
Íàòúïêàíè ñ ëåêàðñòâà, âúðçàíè è áèòè
Ñìÿòàò, ÷å òàêà ñìå äîáðå è ñìå ùàñòëèâè.
Ïîâå÷å íå ìîæåì â òåçè ñòàè äà ñå êðèåì
Ïî äÿâîëèòå, ñëóøàé, íèå ùå íàäâèåì.
Ëúæàò ñå âçàèìíî, ÷å ñ æåñòîêîñò íè ïîìàãàò
Íî ÷óâñòâàò òå, ÷å ñêîðî ùå äîéäå ÷àñ äà áÿãàò.
Ñàíàòîðèóì, îñòàâè ìå äà æèâåÿ
Ñàíàòîðèóì, ïðîñòî ìå îñòàâè íà ìèðà
Ñàíàòîðèóì, ïðîñòî ìå îñòàâè íà ìèðà.
Fear of living on
Natives getting restless now
Mutiny in the air
Got some death to do
Mirror stares back hard
Kill, it’s such a friendly word
Seems the only way
For reaching out again
Ñòèãà òîëêîâà æèâîò
Êàòî íàøèÿ.
Ìîì÷åòàòà ñà íåñïîêîéíè
Âúâ âúçäóõà - ìèðèñ íà áóíò
Íÿêîé òðÿáâà äà óìðå.
Ïëàìòè ôàíòàçèÿòà äèâà
È ñàìî äóìàòà “óáèâàé”
Å åäèíñòâåíèÿò ïúò
Çà èçëèçàíå – îòâúä.
1994 ã.